


UST in a Beat Down

by Calacious



Series: January in February [6]
Category: Harley Quinn (Cartoon 2019)
Genre: F/M, Pining, UST, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29302275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: Breaking bones, sheddingblood - it’s cathartic. Maybe Harley Quinzel’s assessment of him is more on target than he’s willing to admit.
Relationships: Joker/Batman UST, joker/bethany
Series: January in February [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139471
Kudos: 1
Collections: Ficuary





	UST in a Beat Down

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is: Routine

He’s not sure just when the tables started turning, when the world was flipped on its head, when the Joker became more of an enigma than the Riddler. It’s confusing, and Batman isn’t sure what to think of it, how to handle this strange deviation from his normal routine of bashing in the man’s smiling face. Breaking bones, shedding   
blood - it’s cathartic. Maybe Harley Quinzel’s assessment of him is more on target than he’s willing to admit. 

Sighing, Batman sits on the edge of Wayne Tower’s tallest building, watches the cars speed through the streets, the near misses when a pedestrian is a little slow in the crosswalk, and he waits for something to happen. Now that the Joker has become...domesticated...for lack of a better word, the man is no longer committing violent crimes, or coming up with madcap schemes. 

The man’s face is the same. A wide, red, unnatural smile stretched across a white-washed face. Dark eyes twinkling with madness and mischief. A strong jawline. A square chin and distinctive nose. 

It’s not any of those features, though, that capture the man behind Batman’s facade. It’s the clown of mayhem’s hands. They’re strong and large, yet soft. Softer than a criminal’s hands should be.

Growling, Batman draws his cape closer around his shoulders and glares down at the masses who go about their nightly business, unaware of his presence above. He shakes off thoughts of Joker when Robin breaks his reverie by declaring that he’s bored. 

There is very little by way of crime these days. Batman’s bored, too. He wants some action. A face to beat to a pulp, a too-wide red smile stretched even wider in laughter. He wants his normal nightly routine.

“Isn’t it time for big, hulking bats and baby birds to be home, tucked into their beds?” a silky voice asks, and Batman’s heart crashes against his ribcage in a way that is almost painful. 

“Joker,” Batman growls, a slight smile tugs at the left corner of his mouth, and he quickly quashes it down as he raises, gracefully, to his feet, cape billowing in the wind.

“Aw, you remembered,” Joker says. 

He’s smiling. There’s nothing unusual about that. It’s his eyes that are different. They’re not as hard. Less cruel. They have crinkles at the edges, and the fiendish clown seems legitimately happy. 

“What do you want?” Batman asks, eyes narrowing as the clown’s smile remains firmly in place, his face far more open than it has ever been.

“Can’t a buddy drop in on another buddy without wanting something?” Joker asks, raising an eyebrow and holding up his hands.

“Yeah, right,” Robin growls, hands on his hips. “Spit it out, clown.”

“Robin.” Batman places a hand on his son’s shoulder, holding him in place. He can feel the violence thrumming in the boy’s tightly wound body. Batman can understand, he feels it too. Like father, like son.

“Well.” Joker sighs and shakes his head, his smile slips a little, but the happiness remains. “Since you asked so politely,” sarcasm drips from his lips. “Bethany asked me to invite you to a barbecue that we’re having for Sofia’s birthday. If you’d like, you can bring the brat along, too. They might be the same age. What do I know, though? I’m still learning this whole step-father routine, you know? Look who I’m talking to. You could probably give me some tips. How many Robins have you fathered over the years? Something like 3 or 4. I lost track after your second, or third adoption. Anywho...barbecue on Sunday afternoon, cape optional. Can you make it?”

Something about the way that the Joker’s standing, the pinch around his mouth, causes Batman’s heart to lurch in his chest. He’s never seen the Joker like this before - vulnerable, as though he’ll be crushed if Batman says no. None of this is right. He clenches his fists, squares his jaw, and opens his mouth and then closes it. 

“Cat, or Robin got your tongue?” Joker teases. 

“We’ll come,” Batman growls out before he can stop himself. Robin stiffens and tilts his head to look up at him. Batman ignores his son in favor of watching the clown.

Joker loses some of the tension in his shoulders, and this time, when his red lips stretch wide across his face, there’s a genuine smile in place of the gaudy one he normally wears. There is no gruesome nightmare in this smile. It’s hopeful, and Batman has the insane urge to cross the short distance between them and kiss the other man. He quickly stomps down on that urge, and mentally curses Harley’s last words to him about him and Joker beating on each other being about unresolved sexual tension between them. 

“I’ll let Bethany know,” Joker says, and then he turns to leave. 

Batman watches him go, and ignores Robin’s lecture about how irresponsible he’s being on their way home. He’s looking forward to Sunday in ways that he’s not willing to examine right now, and in ways he may never allow himself to examine. And for now, that’s okay. Joker has Bethany and her kids, and Batman, well, he’s got Alfred and his boys, his Robins. And maybe that’s enough. For now.


End file.
